Slit My Throat
by Convenient Alias
Summary: A mind controlled Clint worries that Loki doesn't trust him. Loki does his best to convince his dear hawk otherwise.
1. Chapter 1

Admittedly, Clint should not have expressed doubt that Loki trusted him. The god frowned as soon as he said it, but he did not say anything in response. Instead, he stepped closer to the archer, step by step, until they stood less than a foot away from each other. Closer than usual. Although Loki seemed to enjoy being in close proximity to Clint, their hideout, which they were currently in, was a warehouse. Half the time Clint was sitting up in the rafters and Loki was of course too dignified to join him there.

In order to speak to Loki, Clint had come down. It was what he had said, that Loki put no trust in him, which had Loki's hackles up now.

"My dear hawk," he said, his brow creased. "Why would you ever doubt that I trust you? Of all my subordinates, you are the most efficient and trustworthy. Indeed, I feel that I could leave any task to you."

Clint hesitated.

He did not know, truth to tell, exactly what to think of Loki. The mind control that swirled at the edges of his thoughts blurred matters considerably. He felt, vaguely, that he admired the man. And of course he trusted the man completely, and was loyal to him completely. To even think of betraying him felt dirty. And yet...

"Sometimes," Clint said, staring at the floor, unable to look Loki in the eyes for shame. "Sometimes you stare into the distance, and you seem to be very far away. And when you come back you look almost sick, and you never tell me what you were thinking of."

Clint could hear the frown in Loki's voice as he said, "It is no matter for you to trouble yourself about."

"I know it is none of my business, boss," Clint said. "But you tell us so little information. It's worse than when they withheld information from us at SHIELD. I just...It feels as if you have no trust in me at all."

He would have preferred to continue staring at the ground, but a hand reached out and touched his chin, gently pulling his head up so that he had to look forward. Loki was standing even closer to him now, and his eyes, fixed on Clint's face, were sad.

Clint flinched. Displeasing Loki felt like the worst sin one could ever commit. He opened his mouth to speak, but Loki interrupted.

"I call you my hawk," he murmured, his voice silky-soft. "But in reality you are only borrowed. When it comes down to it, you belong to SHIELD and without my staff's interference that is where your loyalty lies. I'm afraid I must restrict information accordingly, my dear hawk. If SHIELD should regain your service, I can't have you betraying my secrets, now, can I?"

Clint didn't know how much of it was the mind control speaking, but he loved to hear Loki's voice. It twined through his mind, silvery and sweet, and Clint felt that such a lovely voice could never speak anything but truth.

Well.

Sometimes he felt that way.

However, he was not deceived about his employer. The man was a god of liars and tricksters, and while his words sounded so convincing there was no way Clint could trust them without questioning (and perhaps in the end he was the less trusting of the two after all).

He licked his lips before speaking, because defiance was not in his nature (at least not with the mind control's grasp strong on his heart) and he did not like to argue with his master. But in the end he could not help but say, "Perhaps you cannot trust my future self then."

"Not a penny's worth," Loki agreed pleasantly. He had removed his hand from Clint's chin, and Clint kind of hated the way he cringed at its absence, physical contact with his current master being a most pleasurable experience. He also hated, of course, how easily Loki dismissed the possibility of trusting a Clint not under Loki's complete control, but that was another matter.

"As I am now, though," Clint argued. "I cannot betray you. You know that."

"Full well," Loki agreed again. He lifted an eyebrow, prompting Clint to continue, to explain what he was getting at. For of course he was clever enough to see that Clint was getting at something. (Loki was very clever.)

"Then, just for now," Clint said (and he tried very hard to keep that note of pleading out of his voice, but he thought he was failing). "Don't you trust me at all?"

Loki sighed, letting his eyebrow fall back down and resuming a blank expression. "I have given you several sensitive tasks, my hawk."

"Supply runs, recruitment," Clint said. "Not telling me what the supplies are even for yet. You say you will tell me all about the operation when the time comes. When is the time?"

"Soon, of course," Loki responded. "Just a few nights to go. I will tell you all you need to know soon."

"All I need to know, but you will hold something back," Clint said stubbornly. "Where do you go when you look into the distance, Loki? Why do you look sick all the time? Why are you so desperate to take over the world?"

There was always a sense that Loki had deep secrets. Clint only wanted to know enough to keep his master safe and sound, but it was quite obvious that Loki was not sound, not in mind or body, and had not been for quite some time. Even when he had first attacked the SHIELD base and...taken Clint under his wing, he had seemed a little unhinged. There had been dark circles under his eyes then and in all the time since those circles had scarcely gotten smaller.

Loki stared at Clint, still looking so sad. Clint almost hated himself for causing that sadness in his dear master, but it was obvious that Loki was not well. And if only, if only Loki would trust Clint enough to tell him enough that he could help him...

Loki's eyes dropped closed, then snapped open. He gifted Clint with a quirk of his lips, a twisted smile, a combination of apologetic and smug.

"I can't tell you the answers to those questions, my hawk," he murmured now. "But I do trust you, and as this matter of trust seems to trouble your poor mortal mind so, allow me to demonstrate."

Nothing that made Loki so smug could be good. Clint shifted uneasily. "Sure," he muttered. "Go ahead."

Loki seemed to reach about in his sleeves for a moment, and then he stepped even closer to Clint than before. His eyes glittered. "Give me your hand, my hawk."

Clint held his hand out uncertainly but not hesitantly. He was always quick to obey his master's commands.

Loki took Clint's hand in one of his own, and held it up for a minute. Then, with great care, he brought forward his other hand and pressed a long, thin item into Clint's hand.

"Look, my hawk," Loki murmured. "Do you see what this is?"

Clint looked down at his hand, at the shiny, elegantly shaped object he now held in it, and he did indeed see.

"A knife."

"Mmhmm..." Loki practically purred. "I trust you with a weapon, of course, but that's hardly anything new. You're still carrying your bow and arrows around, after all."

Clint nodded. He took his hand away from Loki and had a closer look at the knife. It was silvery from the blade to the handle, not a square centimeter of it not glinting. Fancy, too-engraved with the image of snakes twisting around, eating each other's tails in some strange combination of an ouroboros and a caduceus. "How old is this?"

"Oh, hundreds of years old," Loki said. He waved a hand as if to say it was nothing. "A dwarf hand crafted it for me after I did him a favor. Rare, for a dwarf to be pleased with me. I believe I kept it mostly for that reason, though the craftsmanship is excellent as well."

So Loki was trusting him with a fairly precious item, but Clint knew that couldn't be all. "What's the point of giving me this?"

Loki reached out and took hold of Clint's hand again, with both of his own. He smiled at Clint, looking him fully in the eyes, and gently moved Clint's hand from where he held it in front of his face to the curve of Loki's neck, positioning it so that the blade of the knife rested on Loki's skin.

Clint frowned at Loki, but Loki continued smiling reassuringly. "Relax, my hawk." He slowly withdrew his hands from where they clasped Clint's hand to his neck and allowed them to fall to his sides.

"I don't like this," Clint said quietly. But he didn't take his hand down. Uncertain of what Loki wanted, he continued to hold the blade so that it barely touched the skin on Loki's neck.

"It's all right," Loki replied, just as quiet. "Now, this blade is of dwarf make. It is specially crafted to kill an immortal such as myself, or some other Aesir or Jotun. For that reason it has served me admirably through the years." He allowed the smile to fall away, and his face became solemn. "It will serve you equally admirably, if you so choose."

Clint stared down at the glinting silver blade, the shiny metal looking impossibly hard and sharp against Loki's soft and creamy skin. Loki's vulnerable skin.

It felt wrong. His hand nearly twitched, and he had to restrain himself. To twitch at this point could bring the knife down to the point that it would pierce Loki's skin slightly, and to cause Loki to bleed even a little was unthinkable.

"If you cut down," Loki enunciated. "You can slice deeply into my neck. A wound from that blade I could still use my arts to heal, but if you cut deeply enough I will bleed out before I even get the chance to think of such a step. Slitting a throat is one of the most efficient ways of killing a person."

As if Clint, after all his years as a spy, did not already know that. As if Natasha didn't bring such facts up on a regular basis. Clint swallowed, the act making him painfully aware of his own neck, which itched in sympathy to Loki's vulnerability. "May I put the knife down now, boss?"

Loki shrugged, moving his shoulders but not his neck (so he was as aware of it and as uncomfortable about it as Clint, most likely). "If you so wish. Or you may slit my throat, if that is your desire. I give you full permission."

Clint carefully removed the knife from Loki's throat and let his hand drop to his side, the knife still dangling from it. "Thank you."

Loki laughed, and it occurred to Clint that the laugh was a little shaky. For all that Loki had acted calm with Clint holding a knife to his throat, he apparently had been merely acting after all. Well, he was the god of liars. It was to be expected.

When he had caught his breath, Loki said, "When I gave you permission to slit my throat, the mind control temporarily released you from your compulsion to protect me from bodily harm. If you had chosen you could have killed me then." He paused, and rubbed his neck where the knife had touched it with a wry grin. "There was no way to ensure you wouldn't. But I knew what you would do."

Clint knew what was going on now. "So. That is your trust?"

"That is the extent of my trust in you," Loki confirmed. "If you ever doubt it again, let me know and I will be glad to bare you my neck."

Clint shook his head. "I think that was enough." He held the knife out in front of him. "You can have this back, boss."

Loki shook his head, the grin still stretched wide over his face. "Keep it. Perhaps the next time you believe I don't trust you, it will remind you where we stand. And remind you where we stood, a minute or so ago."

Clint nodded slowly, and slipped the knife into one of the secret compartments in his pants. He used them to keep weapons in generally; this weapon would just be a little fancier than the usual. It slid in easily, and he hoped that it being out of sight would keep it out of mind. He didn't want to remember that Loki could be killed.

* * *

AN: So recently I've been thinking about Loki and Clint's relationship, particularly how it must have developed while Clint was under mind control. I think Loki would have been an okay master, considering. And Clint would have been an okay follower, as long as he was under mind control, but without mind control, well, Loki couldn't trust him a penny's worth.

Reviews are always appreciated! And I would love to hear your thoughts on Loki and Clint's relationship as well, since there are clearly different opinions about it.


	2. Chapter 2

Clint woke up a few days later strapped down to a bed, but he didn't feel restrained. Rather, his mind felt strangely empty, open, wandering even. He could barely even focus on figuring out where he was or what was going on around him. There was an itch, not a physical one but a mental one, like something forgotten. Something was missing. Something was wrong.

Natasha was standing beside the bed talking at him, saying he was going to be all right, that Loki wasn't in his mind anymore. And, oh. That was it.

He was at a SHIELD base, somewhere. Vaguely he remembered the helicarrier that he had been on, fighting Natasha in a hall. And he wished that he were more confused. He wished he didn't understand so perfectly why he had been fighting Natasha, willing to kill her even. Because Loki had willed it, and following Loki had been his ultimate goal.

Loki...Serving Loki...

It had felt like the perfect job, a vocation, something he and he alone was meant to do.

Now it felt, it felt...He didn't even know. He swallowed painfully.

"How hard did you hit me?"

"As hard as I needed to," Natasha responded. "Cognitive recalibration. We needed it." She paused. "You're fine now, right?"

Fine. Clint had felt fine all along. His biggest worry had been that Loki didn't trust him, wouldn't give him more important tasks to do, more people to kill, more crucial tasks. "Take the restraints off."

"Clint," Natasha said. She put a hand to his forehead. "You have to tell me Loki's gone."

Loki never called Clint by his actual name. After a couple times calling him Barton he had settled on "my hawk" and never gone back. It had felt perfect, right, Loki calling him that name. Loki's voice saying anything, really, Loki's presence by his side and in his mind.

"Loki's gone," Clint said.

It was unreal.

Natasha undid the restraints. For a spy, she could be foolishly trusting sometimes. But perhaps she saw the emptiness in Clint's eyes, eyes empty that used to be blue.

"We need to stop him," Natasha said.

"Stop who?"

"Loki," Natasha said. She was frowning now, troubled at Clint's words. Clint knew he should feel guilty at causing her such concern, but the guilt just wasn't coming.

"Yeah," Clint said. "Guess so. I'll help."

Loki, so fond of Clint, had never gone so far as to deny that Clint would leave him if out of his mind control. At the time it had disturbed Clint. Now he wasn't sure what to think. There was an echo of Loki still in his head, a sort of an instinct to follow him. But even Loki had said that when the time came he would choose SHIELD. And in the end, that was the only option that made any sense.

Still, he didn't feel particularly happy as he strapped on his arrow holster the next day and prepared his bow. Steve Rodgers and Tony Stark were in their battling moods, and Natasha was looking grim, but all he could feel was numb.

Arrows wouldn't do any good against Loki anyways, he comforted himself. And then was horrified at his own thoughts. Hurting Loki was the entire point. How thoroughly had the god trashed his mind?

They did get Loki in the end (mostly unharmed, and Clint cursed himself for his relief, and then cursed himself again when the curse came out in Norse, a bad habit he had learned from Loki). Clint had little to do with it, though he did kill a fair number of Chitauri. There was some satisfaction in it for a totally wrong reason-he knew they had been hounding Loki in their association, and it felt strangely like revenge, what he was doing. And not vengeance for the damaged New York.

Clint knew that the way he felt about Loki wasn't right. But it wasn't mind control either-that was gone, he could tell. For one thing, when Loki had asked for a drink upon his capture, he hadn't felt the slightest compulsion to fetch one.

And he was angry at Loki. Very angry. But it wasn't hatred. He knew what hatred felt like; he had loathed many people in his time. He didn't hate Loki. His anger wasn't even as strong as it probably should have been.

And he wasn't entirely sure he was angry about the right thing.

/.../.../

Tony Stark wasn't always the best person to talk to, and certainly Clint never intended to talk to him about it. But apparently he kept track of what went on in the Avengers tower, and when Clint sat up on the windowsill of his room for the fourth night in a row with only an hour or so of sleep, he showed up in the room without even knocking.

"I locked the door."

"JARVIS unlocked it for me," Tony said cheerfully. He crossed the room to stand at the window next to Clint. "Are you sure you aren't going to fall out?"

"Yes, I'm sure." Loki wouldn't have doubted his skills like this. And there he went again. He rubbed his eyes and shot a glare at Tony. "What are you doing here anyways?"

"It's my house."

Clint wondered whether it would be worth moving out to avoid Tony when he had just moved in about a week ago. He groaned. "Well, I'm going back to bed, so please go somewhere else."

"Back to bed? You were never in it in the first place. You haven't slept in the past four nights except on the floor and very little," Tony said, raising his eyebrows. When Clint sent him a questioning look, he added, "JARVIS."

Of course.

"Spy," Clint said. It was true, of course, that as a spy he slept rather less than most. Though, the past few nights had not really been because of that.

"Well, that's cool and all," Tony said. "But, um, I just wanted to ask. Are you okay?"

Clint stared at him.

"It's not just that you aren't sleeping. Sometimes you just zone out in the middle of a conversation, and I keep on finding you staring off into the distance," Tony said. "Is it the whole Loki thing? Because, like, I know we would all feel better with him dead but with you it's pretty personal. Though I would like to point out that he did throw me through a window."

Clint sighed and shook his head. "That's it. I don't want him dead."

Tony paused, clearly a bit confused. "Um..."

"He's not in my head anymore," Clint said. "But at the same time it's like he is. I can't stop remembering."

"What happened to you?" Tony whispered.

It was ridiculous. Clint was pretty sure no one could hear them from here. But whatever made Tony feel more comfortable. He shrugged. "It's not like that. He didn't...torture me, mock me...He, actually he, was...nice."

"Nice? He threw me through a window!"

"You were on the other side," Clint said. It made perfect sense to him. Had he had the chance, and still been under Loki's command, he was sure he would have done the same. "I was on his side. I was his." And it was all about sides with Loki. The people on Thor's side, the Chitauri, and the people on Loki's side. Only everyone on Loki's side wasn't really on his side at all, merely controlled. Yet Loki clung to their loyalty with all the desperation of a child clinging to a doll.

"No you weren't." Tony said. He pointed a finger at Clint as if the finger existing proved some sort of point. "You're on our side, you always were. Him being nice was just some kind of trick. God of lies, remember? He wanted you to think you really wanted to be on his side."

Clint laughed. He stood up off the windowsill. "You really don't get it. It was just the opposite. I always thought I was his completely; I always wanted to be with him. I trusted him completely and I longed for his approval so much." He paused, bit his lip. "He was the one who had to remind me that I was 'only borrowed'. He was the one who was always pulling back from trusting me."

"Well…" Tony paused. He pursed his lips. "So that's why you're so upset? Because you completely bought into the whole Loki worship thing and you feel like you betrayed us? Dude, that totally wasn't your choice. It was the staff affecting you."

Clint shook his head. "It's more like…" He swallowed. "I feel like I've betrayed Loki now."

Tony gave him a puzzled look, and then his eyes widened. Finally he said, "Look, he was manipulating you all along, remember? He never trusted you without the mind control on you in the first place."

"He always said he couldn't trust me without the staff," Clint said. He closed his eyes. "I was so quick to prove him right."

His hand slipped into his pocket to touch the knife he had tucked in there. It was still cool and smooth as it had been the day Loki gave it to him. The day he had proved his loyalty to his master, and the day Loki had shown his vulnerability to his hawk. It was sharp, and he only touched it very lightly, even in his pocket, afraid of slicing his fingers open.

The day Loki gave him the knife felt distant now, like part of another era. It had been a day of fear, of realizing that he could hurt the person he was most devoted to. It had been a day of warmth, realizing the extent of Loki's regard for him. And doubtless it had been the day he had betrayed SHIELD the worst, in his failure to kill Loki where he stood.

Clint was a traitor any way he looked at it, a traitor to SHIELD or a traitor to Loki, and he wasn't even sure which was worse. It was so much easier when he was under mind control. Now nothing seemed clear anymore.

Tony patted his shoulder. "Um, you didn't really have a choice. Even if you feel like you betrayed Loki, he was kind of destroying New York. It's not like you could just stand back and watch."

Clint supposed not.

He wondered whether even Loki saw it as betrayal. He probably accepted it, resigned to the fact that everyone he cared about and everyone he trusted would leave him eventually.

"I want to talk to Loki."

Tony's hand on Clint's shoulder froze, and then slid off. He stepped in front of Clint instead and stared him in the eye. Probably thought Clint was crazy.

"This may be really offensive to you, touchy subject and all, I know," Tony said. "But you aren't planning on rejoining him, are you? Because you've been saying some pretty strange things tonight, and, um, I don't think rejoining him is the best idea. Please remember that he destroyed about a third of New York and enslaved your mind. Please, please remember that he threw me out a window."

Clint nodded. "I know."

He had no such plans, but…There were things he needed to do.

/…/…/

Nick Fury was none too happy about allowing Clint anywhere near Loki. Since Loki was still in SHIELD custody, that made things rather difficult.

Apparently he was convinced that Clint was going to do something crazy if he saw Loki. What, he was not entirely clear about. But before he allowed Clint to visit Loki's cell he told Clint quite firmly that if he rejoined Loki, SHIELD would kill him this time as a traitor, and if he killed Loki, he would have an entirely different set of problems because Loki had to stay alive until he could be deported to Asgard or Thor was going to be very angry and angry thunder gods were not good things.

Clint listened to it all without really caring.

Tony, who went with him to make his appeal to Fury, put up a better defense. "It's about closure," he insisted. "Not revenge, though he totally has reason to get revenge on that horn wearing freak. Closure."

Fury was not impressed with Tony and said so. He also said that if Clint was going down to talk to Loki then Tony was going down too, to keep an eye on them both. "And I still disapprove. You better get some life changing closure out of this, Barton, because this is bending protocol and you know it."

Clint saluted. It felt halfway mocking-SHIELD agents didn't salute.

Tony was not ecstatic about going to see Loki, but Clint thought it was probably a good idea. The man could probably use some amount of closure too.

Clint was looking forward to talking some things out with Loki. They hadn't actually talked to each other in days (which shouldn't have felt so strange) because of Loki's imprisonment and before that, the battle. But when they came to the cell, it became clear that was not going to happen. Loki's mouth was covered by a grey metal muzzle, which looked, to Clint, extremely uncomfortable. Any communication here was going to be either nonverbal or really one sided.

On seeing Clint, Loki rose from where he was sitting on a short metal bench and came over to the bars of the cell. He sent Tony a heated glare (which Clint was not sure he could decipher) and then raised an eyebrow at Clint.

"I wanted to talk with you," Clint said hesitantly.

Loki pointed at the muzzle and narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah, boss," Clint sighed. "I probably should have said 'talk at you.' But anyways, there were just some things…"

"Wait, wait," Tony interrupted. "Boss? Why are you calling him boss?"

"Old habits die hard?"

Loki was glaring at Tony again. Then looking at Clint, he gestured a hand encouragingly. _Go on, my hawk._ Clint smiled shakily.

"Yeah…" He sighed. Looked at the ground. Loki was hard on his eyes, a presence that filled his mind whenever he looked at him. Things he wanted to say sounded better in his head than they did when he saw the man (god, monster) face to face. "I guess we always knew the time would come when I would leave."

He looked up to see Loki nod, raising an eyebrow. _Continue._

"Well," Clint added, biting his lip. "You always knew this time would come. Me, not so much. I…thought…maybe things wouldn't change so much. When I wasn't under mind control. Maybe I would still want to be yours."

Loki wouldn't look at him. He shook his head.

"Thing is, I was kind of right."

Loki snapped his head up and stared at Clint. Even with the mouth blocked, Clint could tell he was grimacing. _What foolishness are you talking about now, hawk?_

"It's like…I don't know…" Clint shrugged helplessly. "I mean, taking away the mind control didn't make me suddenly hate you, you know. I…" He remembered Loki's hand on his shoulder, Loki's voice telling him he had done well. He remembered Loki sitting quietly in a corner on nights when his mind controlled servants were already asleep, and asking Loki why he couldn't sleep, and Loki telling him how long the average Aesir could stay awake without tiring. He remembered thinking that that wasn't really an answer, because Loki was so clearly tired already.

Loki hadn't stopped staring. He put a hand out to touch the bars. Clint half expected him to reach through the bars and touch Clint, just on the arm. But he didn't.

"I was very confused for a while," Clint admitted. "Maybe I still am, a little. But…I don't know…I don't really get what you did, but I kind of do. You wanted friends, right? Not just servants, friends." And he hadn't found friends in most of the enslaved minions, some like Selvig even continuing to almost hate Loki, but what he and Clint had shared…Maybe that had been real.

Loki shook his head emphatically, black hair flipping around his head.

Clint snorted. "Don't lie. You were completely trying to be friends with me. If we had gotten much friendlier you would have been asking me to braid your hair."

Tony laughed.

Loki glared at both of them.

"I mean, you still tried to take over the world," Clint said. "But…you weren't very good at it. I don't think you really wanted to rule the world that badly at all. And you still killed Coulson." He swallowed. "But even if I don't understand your motives, or your actions, I don't hate you, all right?"

Loki slowly nodded.

There were other things Clint wanted to say._ I miss you. I wish we were still friends. I wish we were real friends in the first place. You can trust people, you know. Not just when they're mind controlled. People don't have to be mind controlled to like you, Loki. It's a very natural thing to do._

"Hey, if you ever get back from Asgard, if they let you out of jail or whatever, I don't know…" Clint shrugged. Again. "Look me up?"

Loki raised an eyebrow but nodded.

"You do know he's probably going to be in prison for the next few centuries, right?" Tony said in a loud whisper.

Clint and Loki both glared at him. He raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, manly bonding, whatever. You got your closure yet, dude? I don't think we're supposed to stay down here too long."

"Yeah."

"My turn!" Tony said. He glanced at Loki and cleared his throat. "So, uh, Loki, I don't get why you tried to invade New York either. Or why you decided to center your invasion on my tower. Or why you threw me out a window. So, um, you know those warm and fuzzy feelings Hawkeye was talking about? Really not feeling them. Let's agree to continue into the future with mutual hate."

Loki was still looking at Clint.

"Whatever," Tony huffed.

/.../.../

AN: So the oneshot became a twoshot. This isn't how I planned this second part to go. It wasn't supposed to be this warm and fuzzy. But it just kind of went this way so I hope you enjoyed it. Reviews always appreciated.


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